Sail
by Stephane Richer
Summary: I blame it on my own sick pride


Sail

Disclaimer: Don't own Fujimaki Tadatoshi's _Kuroko no Basuke_ or Awolnation's "Sail".

* * *

"I'm taking you to China one day," Wei says as they walk back to the dorm after practice. It was unusually light, at least compared to what they're used to—a couple of years of running from Araki-sensei's sword are, Tatsuya supposes, enough to prepare them for anything thrown at them. They both agree that it's disappointing and stay afterward for more practice, shooting and passing drills. A junior calls them suck-ups, and Tatsuya is grateful for the first time (he's sure it won't be the last) that Wei doesn't know very much English.

Tatsuya stretches his arms out over his head. He feels the good kind of ache, the one where he knows he's pushed himself—playing one-on-one with Wei, he has to push himself. In two-plus (nearing two and a half now) years, they've learned everything about each other, each knowing every aspect of the other's body and personality and basketball game to the point where it's almost uncomfortable. Tatsuya's the better player, the one who held the mantle of ace calmly, accepting it like a God-given right. Still, when there's no one to pass to, Tatsuya's faking ability is decidedly less effective and Wei keeps getting faster, better at shifting his weight on a whim (not that he has to do it that much because he's already committed to shifting back half the time—it's almost like he knows how many times Tatsuya's going to fake before Tatsuya does). Of course, Tatsuya manages to drive past him, ducking under outstretched arms and going wide—his reaction time is still better than Wei's—and on defense his gaze is icy and makes Wei want to shrink back, the way he sizes him up coolly and blocks him, jumps higher than should really be expected, throws him off balance the way a guy eight inches shorter than him has absolutely zero business doing.

"Seriously," Wei says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his athletic shorts and scowling. "It's not fair. I can't speak Japanese for shit and I can't speak English for shit."

Tatsuya looks up sharply at his face, staring passively straight ahead. "Don't expect life to be fair."

Wei shrugs. "I don't. That's why I'm going to make it fair and take you back with me."

"Oh? What if I don't want to go?"

He shrugs again. They walk in relative silence for a while, busy night traffic whizzing by and music blasting out of someone's window from far away. Wei's hand finds Tatsuya's somewhere between the beginning of the silence and when they stop at a busy intersection and wait to cross.

"Take me sometime," Tatsuya says.

"You'd better not learn Chinese."

"Hmm."

Wei can't decide if he wants to punch or kiss that horrible smirk off of Tatsuya's face. (He ends up doing the latter, quick and hard and sloppy, and he lets go and straightens his neck way before Tatsuya's ready.)

* * *

Wei learns English fairly quickly; he's already done some in school but it was never his best subject—and the English they learned in Yosen, as Tatsuya can firmly attest to, is totally impractical and useless. Nevertheless, one of their other upperclassmen takes him under his wing (well, sort of) and Tatsuya feels like he's watching Wei's relationship with Fukui all over again, but from the beginning. They goof off and make fun of their teammates and each other. Tatsuya's proud and jealous (of course he is) and it takes a night where he gets drunk off his ass for him to blurt out his messed-up feelings to Wei, who can really hold his liquor (being six foot eight really does have its advantages, when all is said and done) and is mostly sober despite having consumed almost twice as much alcohol as Tatsuya. He's garbling a mixture of English and Japanese and Wei keeps telling him to slow down, damn it, and he tries but the words are controlling him.

Wei doesn't catch every word but he gets the gist of it and he sighs and Tatsuya sinks to the ground and Wei helps him to the toilet and tells him how much of an idiot he is while holding his hair back and when it's over Tatsuya cries and Wei holds him in his lap and locks the bathroom door and tells him they'll talk it over more when they're both sober and there's no throbbing bass shaking the building they're in and a million people slurring their words and pounding on the thin door outside.

This time, Tatsuya doesn't need Alex or anyone else to tell him what a fuckwad he's being and he apologizes and Wei just shakes his head because that's not the point, Tatsuya, okay? Neither of them is really all that good with words when it comes down to the really important things, so it's hours of sitting quietly and saying things as they come, working through it. It's a patience that Wei has but rarely exercises, and the fact that he's using this patience for Tatsuya makes him selfishly glad.

In the end, Wei promises he'll spend more time with Tatsuya and Tatsuya promises to not take everything as a personal affront.

Still, Tatsuya wonders if they really mean those words. He does not doubt that Wei wants to spend more time with him, but doubts that he actually will. He knows he can be bland and predictable, and that his dry humor is no match for the rambunctious wit of some of their classmates, that even though he's good at a lot of things he's not the best at anything—he just gives a vacant smile and goes through life. And it's hard not to take everything personally, and perhaps, he thinks, it's better to do so than to always blame the situation—it's good to take responsibility for one's actions. Only cowards avoid blame.

Still, Wei is spending more time with him; they hang out more in their room together and eat together and sit together on the team bus and Tatsuya tries to make things okay, like the way they were before, but of course that's not going to happen.

It's Wei who snaps this time, because Tatsuya's not holding up his end of the bargain, still has jealousy burning behind his eyes, still withdraws and is moody and cranky and it's just not working at all this way. Tatsuya has no faith in him, has already resigned himself to the idea that Wei doesn't want him anymore and is trying to cut him loose, and Wei is too pissed off and stubborn to do anything but finish tearing off the string so as not to give Tatsuya the satisfaction of watching it fray.

* * *

Things get awkward in their room quickly, and they both make excuses and neither one is there very often. Tatsuya sleeps on Alex's couch and spends weekends with his parents, and when he can't face any of them he finds another pretty drunk girl, eager to tell her life story to anyone who will listen and anyone who won't, who clutches onto Tatsuya's arm and he escorts her home and crashes on her floor, hand knocking against the harsh, splintery wood of her school-issued dresser and wakes up to bleeding knuckles. Wei rotates among his teammates and classmates and just wanders the unfamiliar streets of this lonely city. The heat makes his skin itch and keeps him on edge, teeth clenched.

On the court, their relationship is still the same. No matter how much either tries or wants to try, he cannot forget the way the other moves, the subconscious knowing of the other's location, the right way to pass to him and receive his passes. They click in practice, in games, and then just shut off the lever when they leave the court, not speaking to each other, not looking at each other.

They don't talk about it; no one can get them to. In the scheme of things, the captain decides, it's better to let them resolve or not resolve it on their own because they're still playing well together and the team has more important things to worry about than friendship off the court.

Tatsuya pushes himself, punishes himself, tells himself every time he sees those long limbs in front of him, the clenched shoulders and brown eyes and the way his body folds to accommodate the way the world has been built for people a foot shorter than him, that he is not worthy. It echoes in his ears, pumping through his blood and through the music coming through his headphones and the rhythmic undertone of every game he watches on TV.

Wei tells Fukui and Fukui tells Atsushi and Atsushi gives Tatsuya a video-chat lecture and is so dead-serious about it he puts his hair in a ponytail and takes the lollipop out of his mouth and it's startling to realize that his Atsushi is growing up and probably becoming quite a capable captain. But even with this realization, especially with this realization, he cannot fail to grasp the meaning of Atsushi's words, coming straight from the heart.

"You need to apologize. You need to fix things, even if you don't get back together, even if you're not friends, just…fix things. Even if things happen different from the way you want them to, Muro-chin, don't hate yourself, okay? I need you to promise me."

Atsushi continues to hugely guilt-trip him, which isn't exactly fair (although, Tatsuya realizes, he's the one who always says that life isn't fair) and Tatsuya finds himself finding out another thing about Atsushi—that he's gotten much better at manipulating people for a direct purpose other than his own enjoyment. Once again, in another area, he's leaving Tatsuya behind. Tatsuya's still as petty and childish as he was four or five years ago; he's still angry and selfish and still hates everything, especially himself.

Tatsuya wonders when he'll stop doing this again and again, when he'll break the cycle of hurting himself and (inadvertently) everyone around him, because he convinces himself they don't care, because he's afraid of getting hurt—and every time he falls back into the trap, gets sucked in—no, it's his own damn fault, really. If there's any time to avoid self-pity but shoulder the blame it's now, because he is the only one who can stop himself from doing it again, who can be vigilant and see the traps and avoid them, because even when he apologizes that doesn't fix everything. Things are irrevocably changed, perhaps for the better and perhaps for the worse.

He waits in their room, stays up all night (when Wei comes back it's around three or four AM, and he crashes on the bed and Tatsuya always has class before Wei wakes up and when he returns Wei's gone—that is, assuming both of them come back on any given night, which is a pretty big assumption). Wei doesn't show. They see each other in practice the next morning, as usual, but when Tatsuya gets out of the shower Wei's already off to breakfast with a couple of other guys. This goes on for a few more days, and the Tatsuya sets himself straight, because he's being a coward about this. He's afraid and thinking up excuses and feels relief in his stomach whenever he's made up his mind and Wei's not available.

He calls and leaves a voice mail, telling Wei to meet him in the room. He wonders if when Wei hears his voice he'll automatically hit delete and fling the phone across the room, but that's not really his style. Even now, when Tatsuya definitely deserves it (how can he stop loathing himself when loathing himself has brought him so low?) Wei won't do it.

He shows up two hours later. This time, there are no long silences. They've both had time to plan what to say.

* * *

It's hard to be friends again once you've been more than that, but it's better to be friends than to be less. It's easy to slip the old routines back on halfway, the same old stupid jokes and the same old basketball arguments. Tatsuya even joins Wei in pulling pranks and teasing everyone else, and everyone agrees his insults hurt the most. (They all regret wishing for Tatsuya and Wei's reconciliation.)

Still, there are moments when they are uneasy, awkward. Sometimes, Tatsuya misses Wei more now that they're friends because they're this close to being lovers, but they're still not.

The only thing he can do right now is to give Wei unwavering faith and friendship and not to sulk or whine or clench his fists or get unreasonably angry about things that are beyond his control and not a cause for worry in the first place.

* * *

Wei stays for the summer under the guise of improving his English. He and Tatsuya can't get internships anywhere (everyone's only hiring juniors and seniors) so they fill out applications for convenience stores and fast food places, and they end up working the graveyard shift at Taco Bell, which gets pretty interesting sometimes. They sleep all day and sooner or later they end up in the same bed again and there's no turning back.

Tatsuya lets himself be unashamedly greedy sometimes, stealing kisses from Wei whenever and wherever he can, admiring his body, taking his damn sweet time during sex. And he lets Wei go without a glare or a guilt trip, to go hang out with his other friends or go somewhere alone, or do things (he doesn't always tell Tatsuya where he's going or when he'll be back) as he pleases. And Tatsuya does the same, and even though he still feels angry and jealous sometimes he does not act on those feelings. He talks about them to Alex's cat or goes for a long run to clear his head and makes himself believe in Wei. After all, if he can make himself be negative and unsure (he wasn't always this way) he can make himself have more confidence in himself and in others.

* * *

They go to China the next summer, spending a few weeks in Shanghai (Wei's from a rural area, but his mother's cousin lives there). Tatsuya's Chinese is incoherent and Wei laughs at him and tells him to give up. Tatsuya finds some appeal in the way Wei acts as both an interpreter and a chaperone for him, shuttling him around the unfamiliar city and trying to teach him the good and bad parts of town. It's not a long enough visit for Tatsuya to really get everything into his head, because it's such a different place from Los Angeles or Akita or any other place where he's spent an extended period of time.

Still, there's no place like home and he gets out of the airport and breathes in the smog that's particular to Los Angeles and feels the sun beating on his skin at the perfect angle. Again their hands interlock.

Tatsuya trusts Wei to not let him collapse inward again. His hand does not waver or shake.


End file.
